


The Dilemma

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Lion, the Wolf and the Dragon [14]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Homecoming, Strategy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: The news of the Freys' extinction reached Winterfell as Jon Snow did.





	The Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

> Next installment :) I know this is shorter than most of the others, but my main focus is on Arya. The purpose of this and other such fics are to let you guys know what is going on elsewhere.
> 
> Title from the song by You Me At Six

The news of the Freys’ extinction reached Winterfell as Jon Snow did.

 

An hour after that, a dragon landed outside its gates.

 

“Hold your fire!” Jon roared at the archers lining the walls, arrows nocked and bows drawn taut. Viserion shrieked in answer to Jon’s voice, and lowered his head the moment Jon reached him, ungloved hand held out. Scales met skin, and then Ghost followed Jon out the gateway, going straight to the dragon and rubbing against a clawed foot. The Northerners watched the scene unfold with mixed expressions of shock, disbelief and open-mouthed awe. Jon said some quiet words to the dragon, who immediately took to the sky again, and returned to the castle. “Gather the lords in the hall,” he said, and went there himself.

 

Sansa met him there. “What will you tell the men?”

 

“The truth,” Jon answered. He lowered his voice, pointedly keeping his eyes locked to Sansa’s. “After this, we will need to talk some more. In private.” Littlefinger was watching from his place along the wall, calculating as always. Jon thought that it was getting to be time to remove him from his position of power, if it could be done in the right way. It would be a much more difficult task than convincing the Northern lords of his and Daenerys’ present truce.

 

“Tell me you did not bend the knee to the dragon queen,” Lord Manderly said the moment the doors closed. “Tell me that you did not give up the North.”

 

Jon looked him dead in the eye. “I did not give up the North.”

 

“Then why is there a dragon outside the gates?” Lord Glover shouted furiously.

 

“Because I am his rider.”

 

They were silent, every one of them. Jon did not like the smug look on Littlefinger’s face, but he ignored it. “I can’t explain it, I hardly understand it myself,” he went on. “The best I can see it is that Viserion chose me, in a way. Or fate, the gods, what have you. I could not have left without him. He would have followed me here no matter what I did.”

 

“The dragon queen would not give one of her dragon’s to you without some sort of payment,” Lord Manderly argued.

 

“It isn’t like that for her,” Jon said. “The dragons are intelligent, some say more than men. Daenerys didn’t _give_ Viserion to me; he chose to join me himself and she did not stand in the way of that. As luck would have it, another dragon chose Tyrion Lannister to be his rider. Daenerys did not stop that either.” There was doubt in the faces of the Northern lords. “She is not a tyrant,” he continued. “She is not mad like her father or some of her ancestors before her. She wants the Iron Throne, but she will not burn down cities and castles to get it. There is a plan, a strategy, to get it. As I am sure you’ve heard, my sister Arya has taken Riverrun and regained control of the Riverlands. Casterly Rock is held by Daenerys’ troops and the Tyrells stand with her, besieged as they are by the Lannisters. All of this has been done without the death of innocent people.”

 

“What becomes of your reign if she becomes Queen of Westeros?” Lord Glover asked, unmoved.

 

“The details aren’t worked out yet,” Jon admitted, “but she recognized me as King in the North. And what’s more, we have her support against the Night King and the army of the dead.”

 

There was lingering doubt but, for the moment, Jon knew that they would accept his words. “Is the dragon dangerous?” Lord Cerwyn spoke up.

 

“As dangerous as Ghost,” Jon said honestly. And it was that, strangely enough, that made the Northerners inclined to accept Viserion’s presence. Most would not approach the creamy dragon when he came down from the skies, but aside from a few wary glances, they did not give him an unnecessarily wide berth. It was more than Jon had imagined he could ask of them.

 

Sansa, having heard everything the moment Jon returned, was worrying about something else. “Do you think that Arya killed the Freys?”

 

“Her orders were to take and hold Riverrun,” Jon responded, a little uncertainly.

 

Sansa levelled him with a look worthy of Jeor Mormont back at the Wall. “You know as well as I do that if Arya sets her mind to something, she can do it. It would not be hard for her to make up a story and leave Riverrun for awhile to travel to the Twins. And alone, she could be quick.”

 

“Tormund would not allow it,” Jon pointed out.

 

“Perhaps not, but since when does Arya need permission to do anything?” Jon grinned at that, and Sansa smiled for a second before turning serious again. “You wanted to speak with me about…”

 

She didn’t need to finish. “I want Lord Baelish to leave,” Jon said in a low voice, despite the door to the room being closed. “He hardly stops looking at you, even surrounded by other lords. I am worried for your safety with him here. Daenerys seems concerned about him as well.”

 

“You told her?”

 

“Arya convinced us all that it was in our best interests to share everything with each other,” Jon said.

 

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “Everything?” Her gaze flicked to his torso, where she knew the stab wounds still laid in prominent, unhealed scars.

 

Jon hesitated long enough for her to know, but she decided to leave it alone. “What, exactly, are we supposed to do with him?”

 

“Remove him from Robin,” Jon said immediately. “At least reduce his time with the boy. He’s fond enough of you that once he holds power over the Vale, he’ll pledge himself to us without needing Littlefinger.”

 

“He’s fond of me, but he _loves_ Lord Baelish,” Sansa argued. “Should something, _anything_ , happen to Littlefinger, there’s a huge chance that Robin will retreat back to the Vale no matter what advice he receives. Even if he doesn’t, he’s ill and volatile. It could kill him.”

 

“Littlefinger _murdered_ Robin’s mother.”

 

“He doesn’t know that, and he won’t believe it either. Littlefinger could say so himself and Robin would never listen.”

 

“He can’t stay here.” Jon ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

 

“The Night King is coming,” Sansa said, “right? We can’t send the Knights of the Vale back to the Vale, not while the threat is there. The Wall has held them before, but the Watch is not strong enough, even if the Wildlings agree to help defend it.”

 

“Many of them have,” Jon agreed, “but only because of what happened at Hardhome. A lot of them were lost that day.”

 

“What if we convince Littlefinger to take the Knights of the Vale to the Wall and help hold it?” Jon made to protest, but Sansa hurried on. “How many empty castles are there along the Wall?”

 

“Sixteen,” Jon answered automatically.

 

“Littlefinger’s forces could occupy almost all of those, even if there are only a couple hundred at each.”

 

“A lot of them are in ruins,” Jon pointed out. “They’re uninhabitable.”

 

“Then they save the ones that they can,” Sansa said. “Littlefinger can head one of the castles himself. It keeps him out of our way _and_ the Wall gets some extra protection. It isn’t the perfect solution but, short of killing him…”

 

“He can still do damage from the Wall if he really wants to.”

 

“Maybe so,” Sansa conceded, “but even Lord Baelish is not stupid enough to compromise the Wall.”

 

Jon was still doubtful. “I can’t imagine that he will consent to go.”

 

“He pledged his loyalty to our house,” Sansa reminded him. “And if we ask him in front of all the lords and Northmen, he can’t refuse.”

 

Jon nodded slowly, taking it in. A thought occurred to him. “Lord Robin would not survive up there; he is sick enough as it is here, and he never steps foot outside of the castle.”

 

Sansa smiled. “That’s why Robin will remain here.”


End file.
